Death
by UltraRecycloVegetarian
Summary: After Jazz's little brother was murdered, she swore off of anything related to ghosts. Ghost fighting, Amity Park, even her parents. But three years later at college, she meets Amber, a girl who seems strangely familiar. And that sends off the chain reaction which shows that Jazz's past really is haunting her, in more ways than one.
1. Chapter 1

Oh, no. No no no, this cannot be happening. I'm standing at the top of the basement steps, not willing to go any further. Hearing it is sickening enough. It's the middle of the night, for God's sake. I'd been up in my room studying, when I'd heard a series of loud noises come from downstairs. I barely registered my parents' excited voices. After all, we're talking about the same people who get excited when there's a sale on jumpsuits at Wal-Mart. So I flipped through the pages, determined to ace my biology midterm. Around 11:30, I started to get a little worried. My parents should be sleeping by now, or upstairs at the very least. I crept downstairs, and let out a groan when I noticed the lights in the lab were still on. Of course, they were working on whatever insane invention they'd dreamt up this time. I decided to pour myself a glass of milk and grab some goldfish before heading back upstairs. I barely made it to the first step when a wail pierced through the otherwise silent night. Then my mom's voice, except it sounded harsh, like she was talking to a misbehaving puppy. They say curiosity killed the cat, and curiosity might kill that ghost too if I wasn't careful. I'll admit, I was a bit surprised when I realized my mom must've been talking to something that could actually understand, and I'm fairly sure my parents weren't down there with a voice-activated Fenton gadget. They'd actually caught a ghost. I was about to descend the steps and say something about how this could wait until tomorrow mixed in with a congratulations, when I heard something that made me pinch myself, to make sure I wasn't dreaming.

"Stop squirming, Ghost Boy. You're only making this harder on yourself." So here I am, teetering on the edge of the doorframe, deciding whether to go down or not. I'm hoping for the best, but expecting the worst. I start running thorough the possible ways they could've caught him, when the reason _what_ they're doing makes my heart stop.

_"Let's pull it apart molecule by molecule!"_

_"Don't you at least want to dissect the remains first?"_

No no no, this isn't possible. I walk down the stairs slowly, as if I'm about to enter a room of nightmares. And in a way, I am. I have to tell them before they start the dissection. I just peek over the railing, and the sight almost makes me keel over.

I'm too late.

There he is, covered in something green that I can't stand to look at. It's dripping over the edge of the table, outlining his gloved hand. I want to run and snatch the scalpel right out of my father's hand. But I can't bring myself to walk any further. What's the point? I try to convince myself he might still be alive, even though the possibility is next to nothing. I shake the lead out of my limbs and walk another step, when it creaks. My parents turn around, visibly surprised.

"Jazz, sweetie? What are you doing up this late?" And suddenly I feel hatred, pure rage course through my veins as I see her stand in front of the bloody mess, as if I won't notice. How stupid does she think I am?

"Studying." I answer through gritted teeth. "Looks like you guys have been too." It takes all of my willpower to not shove them aside and stitch my poor little brother up.

"Jazzy-pants! Look at this!" My dad was smiling excitedly, as if he weren't conducting gruesome surgery on an innocent teenage boy. I think I surprised even myself when hot tears began streaming down my face. It really was him. Lying there, cold and lifeless. He'll never be able to speak again, even if it's only to tell me what a snitch I am. He won't ever open his eyes again, never be able to do anything, just a shell of what he was.

"Y-you don't understand!" I was choking now, backing away from my parents. My parents exchanged looks, giving me a glimpse of him. I suddenly darted towards the table, wanting something, anything, to show them what they'd done. My breath hitched in my throat when I saw it up close. His glassy eyes were still open, as well as a good chunk of his stomach. I could see the little spots of red that were covering the surgical knives. Where'd my parents get those anyway? Another wave of waterworks racked my entire body and I turned back towards my parents, fingers shaking. "Don't you care? He-he's not just ghost scum!" I took a deep breath for my next words, so they could hear me perfectly.

"That's your son."

* * *

_Ehh, I didn't really like this one. It's also kinda rushed because I'm supposed to be doing History homework. xD Whatever, I think I'll rewrite it sometime later. If you guys have anything specific you'd want me to write for tomorrow's theme (Ghost Stories), tell me! Because I'm totally blanking haha._


	2. Chapter 2

Sleep just wouldn't come to me tonight. No matter how hard I tried, my eyelids refused to droop. It seemed as if the universe _wanted_ me to stay up all night with tears leaking out of my eyes, just as I had on this day last year. I'd planned to go to the football game tonight, but the rain ruined everything. I couldn't even go out to dinner with Justin. Not that I'd normally do those things on a Saturday night. Contrary to popular belief, majoring in Psychology isn't a walk in the park. I should go take a walk in the pouring rain. Or call Sam. Or do something else. Instead, my hand moved towards the picture frame sitting on my desk. Of us.

It really was a perfect picture. I remembered the day we took it, I'd persuaded him to help me make a scrapbook of his ghostly adventures. We were sitting on my bed, surrounded by tape and cut-up photos. My arms were draped around him, ruffling his hair. He looked annoyed, but his eyes were light and happy. I hugged the picture to my chest, breathing in deeply, as if I could bring back a tiny piece of him. But he was gone. He'd been gone.

I hate myself, it's been three years and I still can't believe it. I still think that if I manage to step foot back into Amity, he'd be headlining the newspaper. But no, my thoughts are stupid. And they haunt me, they follow me everywhere. I thought I could outrun them, by moving across the country, but I couldn't. The tears start prickling at my eyes again, and I fell back onto the bed. I know I shouldn't blame myself, but I do. If I'd just gone downstairs a minute earlier, he'd be alive. As for my parents, that's a different story. Another part of my self-loathing comes from not being able to forgive them. It was a mistake. I shouldn't be staying here for the holidays, I shouldn't ignore their calls. But I do. I do all of those things, and I miss him so much.

But the truth is, I'm selfish. I miss him because he gave _me_ a sense of purpose in life. Yeah, you could argue that I had plenty of purpose before I learned about my ghost-fighting little brother. But it's like I was wearing a veil before that, only seeing fuzzy pieces of the world instead of the whole thing. I only focused on myself, on how my grades were, on how my hair looked, how my life was doing on the whole. Sure, I cared about Danny. But before the Spectra incident, I didn't think he was all that extraordinary.

Then it changed. I felt so proud, knowing that he stood up to all those ghosts. And I tried to help in any way I could. Given, sometimes my ideas backfired, and I could be a nuisance. But I _tried_. As he got older, I started noticing the purplish bruises beginning to dot his body, along with streaks of red. He always insisted that he was perfectly fine, that I shouldn't worry. But at least once a month I'd have to sew back the gaping skin on his arm or tell him to hold still while I bandaged his chest. Still, I didn't notice until it was too late.

I didn't notice the way his reflexes had gotten slower, how his blasts became more and more inaccurate. Every day I scold myself for not realizing sooner, figuring out how easy it must've been...for them to catch him. I can't even think about that night anymore before bursting into tears. It just isn't fair. Water is streaming down my cheeks now, but I don't do anything. Nights like this make me wish I was still at home, so I could go outside and walk down the streets of Amity, where I knew every single twist and turn.

I stole a peek at the window, and the rain had let up. Who knows how long I'd been up, since the sky was already beginning to turn purple. I decided to screw it, and I got out of bed. My limbs felt like lead, but I managed to put on my coat and slip outside.

It really was pretty nice out. The crack of dawn, nobody around to bother you. I walked around campus, drinking in the absolute nothingness. I really should come out in the morning more often. Eventually, I got bored of walking around, and lied down in the grass. It was still wet, but it didn't bother me much. There were still a couple stars twinkling in the sky, as if congratulating me on getting up so early. I closed my eyes and leaned back, sighing. It'd been a while since I'd really been able to relax. I'd been so stressed out about my first year of college that I forgot to live in the moment. I was jolted out of my peaceful thoughts when a cold draft passed through my bones, leaving my teeth chattering. I decided to get up and go back to my dorm, when something glowing faintly materialized in front of me.

_"Jazz? It's me."_

My dead little brother was standing in front of me.

* * *

_Yay for totally horrible writing at 2 am! Ahah, a couple people wanted a sequel to dissection (the previous chapter, originally part of Ectober) so why not? This is short, but I suck at writing angst. I'm not sure, I might make this like a three-shot or a nice long story. Just depends on my inspiration level. What do you think?_


	3. Chapter 3

I blinked and shook my head. This has _got_ to be a dream. Any minute now, I'll wake up, back in my dorm. But it didn't happen, no matter how hard I pinched myself. He was still there, edges slightly fuzzy. I was content just to sit there and drink him in. I was sitting up now, legs crossed.

_"Jazz?"_ He tried again. His voice sounded far-away, like it was a recording.

"D-Danny?" I hated how my voice sounded. Desperate.

_I wanted to-"_ His face blurred momentarily, and like a computer glitch, he fizzed out. I sat there for a minute, not understanding what had happened. One thing for sure, that wasn't my Danny. He'd souded...foreign. Like a cheap clone of my former brother.

I shuddered as my brain brought up an image of Dani, his actual clone. A pang of guilt seized my heart, since I had no idea where she was now. I didn't even know if she was still alive. After Danny died, I cut myself off from anything related to ghosts. So much, that I even stopped talking to Tucker and Sam. Now I can barely remember the faces from the Ghost Zone that I'd come to know so well, let alone their faces. I knew I shouldn't have. But I did a lot of stupid things after he left.

I dusted my coat off and stood up, warding away my thoughts. After all, there's no use crying over spilled milk. I figured my classes would start in about an hour, so I could use the extra time to get some well-deserved rest. I knew I needed it, after spending the whole night living in the past.

* * *

"Are you sure you haven't seen her before?" I asked Lindsay.

"Yeah, I'm sure. Now can we please get some lunch?" My best friend rolled her eyes as I asked about the new girl, again. I _knew_ I'd seen her before. Not exactly deja vu, but I knew her face. I just couldn't recall her name. It was odd though, because she didn't look too memorable. Except for her raccoon eyes, which seemed a little more high school style. The girl wore mostly black, and her long, slightly curly brown hair was tied up in a high ponytail.

"Yeah, I guess we can." I followed her into the crowded Panera Bread. The stuff they served wasn't exactly lunch on my standards, but Lindsay said it was delicious. I could barely see the line winding through the store, but my eyes found her instantly.

"Look!" I sounded like a middle schooler spotting her crush. "It's her!"

"Do you want me to give you a medal?" Lindsay sounded uninterested, but she followed my line of sight. "Doesn't she look a little too young for college though?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking..." I mused, not knowing what to think of her. _C'mon Jazz, think!_ But for the first time in a while, my mind came up blank. I had to figure out who she was, but I couldn't even remember her name.

"I think I'll go ask. Maybe she's someone from my old town." I sped off before the blonde next to me could object.

After quite a few mentions of 'excuse me' and 'sorry for getting in the way', I was a few feet away from her. There were electric-blue headphones dangling around her neck, and she was texting someone, thumbs moving so fast they were a blur.

I wasn't sure _how_ exactly to approach her. Before I'd really thought up of a plan, I cleared my throat. "Uh, this might sound weird, but do I know you from somewhere?"

She turned towards me, and her eyes glinted with amusement. She cocked her head, studying me for a moment, (and making me uncomfortable) before responding.

"I don't think so. Why? Am I familiar?" A smile danced on her lips, and for some reason I couldn't bring myself to lie to her. Her voice was smooth but edgy, like a chunk of broken glass.

"Yeah. Maybe I've seen you around Amity?"

She looked visibly surprised by this. _Duh! She probably thinks I'm a creepy stalker now._ "It's where I used to live." I added quickly.

"Oh." Her face relaxed. "Yeah, you could say I'm from there. Who _are_ you, to know so much about me anyway?"

"Me? Jazz." I coughed, not wanting to say my last name. But it was obvious that she was waiting for me to, leaning forward in her chair casually. "Fenton."

"Right!" She snapped her fingers. "I was a friend of your brother's!"

My heart skipped a beat, but not in the romantic sense.

"You...were?" No, she wasn't. I would've remembered her if she was.

"Okay, so maybe not a friend." She chuckled. "But I knew him. He was a cool kid."

"Yeah." I suddenly wanted to run back to Lindsay. Of all the people I could've known in my life to find here, it had to be a friend of Danny's.

Sensing the awkwardness, she smiled at me. "Sorry, I know you don't like him being brought up. I just, he was kinda like my little brother too."

I was about to ask what exactly she meant by that, when her phone vibrated and she held her index finger up, pausing our conversation. Her eyes scanned the screen, and she groaned. "Sorry, but I gotta go. See you around? By the way, name's Amber." She got out of her chair, which squeaked in protest.

I leaned forward on my heels just as she did before. "Amber...?"

"McLain. Amber McLain." She sounded a little irritated as she walked away.

I blinked, and it was as if she'd disappeared into thin air, leaving me standing alone.

* * *

"Jazz, I'm so tired." Lindsay drew out her words as she leaned against a bookcase.

"Then leave." I was in a bit of a sour mood, considering we'd been here for more than an hour and I'd found next-to-nothing to help me on my biology report. To be honest, I wasn't even sure what I was looking for anymore.

"Let's come back tomorrow, when you aren't so frazzled." She advised. She _did_ have a point. I'd had a nagging feeling at the back of my head ever since I'd spoken to Amber earlier today. Like I should go talk to her again. But what would I say? For some reason, the idea of pestering her until I figured out who she was didn't seem like a good idea.

"Just another minute, I swear." I pushed through the books, skimming over the titles. Yeah, the report wasn't due for another month or two, but the sooner the better, right?

Lindsay sighed, giving up. "Tell me when your 'minute' is up." She pulled her phone out of her back pocket, sinking down onto the carpeted floor.

I kept going through the books, until I felt a chill pass through my fingertips. It reached down to my toes, sending my teeth chattering. I went back through them, slowly until I felt the same cool hardcover on my skin. I pulled it out, the sight of the book taking my breath away.

The cover was faded, but it must've been a royal purple. It was carved intricately with gold, shapes that I couldn't make out as anything more than swirls. There wasn't a title, and the back was filled with more patterns. There was no call number, nothing on the spine to indicate what was inside.

I flipped open to the front page. It was a stark white, with nothing but a jumble of jet-black letters in the middle. _La Libro de la Mortintoj_. The language seemed familiar in the same way Amber had. I stared at it for another moment, willing my foggy brain to make sense of the words, to no avail.

It took me a minute to dig my nails underneath the next page. When it turned over, I realized it was covered in something slick and green. Well, not entirely. It was speckled with red. To my surprise, it felt sticky, like wet nailpolish. I felt slightly disappointed, since I couldn't read anything. I suppose it didn't matter, since it was in another language anyway.

I quickly went to the next page, only to find it covered in the same goo. I sighed and shut the book, tiny particles of dust rising from the pages. Then I got an idea. A seemingly stupid one, but it was an idea.

"Hey, Linz, do you have some nailpolish remover I could borrow?"

She looked up at me skeptically from her screen. "Uh, yeah."

"Good, 'cause I'm gonna need it." I tucked the book under my shoulder, satisfied. Nobody seemed to want it, anyway. I had no idea why, but I was going to figure out what that book meant.

* * *

_Ugh I tried to make this as long as I could and it's still sorry for not updating for so long! I like this story but I've been caught up in life ahah. Oh, and does anyone wanna guess what language the book is in? c;_


	4. Chapter 4

"Amber, you have to focus if you want to get anything done." I let out an irritated groan, no longer hiding my displeasure at the brunette seated in front of me, currently ignoring her work.

"So-_rry_. Your room is just really...cold." She shivered, in spite of wearing a thick leather jacket.

"What?" I raised my eyebrows at her. "I have the thermostat turned up to 78 degrees." I cracked a small smile.

"Oh." Amber laughed nervously. "I don't know then, maybe it's just me."

"I could make some hot chocolate, if you want." I offered. Honestly, I had given up on even entertaining the idea that Amber was going to get any homework done. Lindsay was with her other friends, and I _knew_ they thought I was a stuck-up know-it-all.

"Really?" Her blue eyes lit up. "That would be awesome."

I got up and walked towards the kitchen. It was relatively small, but a stove and a microwave was enough for me.

While I was mixing the powdered chocolate and the milk, Amber took the liberty to wander around my dorm, looking at everything.

"I thought you said you lived in Amity?" Her voice rang through the silence.

"I did." I responded curtly. Obviously, she didn't get the hint that I wanted to change the topic.

"So how come you don't have any stuff from there? Not even pictures of your family?" She continued waltzing around, inspecting my bookcase.

If it wasn't so unbearably cold outside, I would've thrown her out right then and there. I took a deep breath before responding, reminding myself that she didn't know. We'd told everyone Danny was messing around with the lab equipment, and didn't watch where he was pointing. It wasn't the best lie, but everyone seemed to believe it. Well, everyone but Tucker and Sam. I would've told them even if they didn't corner me in Casper's halls. I can still see the tears leaking down Sam's cheeks.

"Never got around to putting it out." I shrugged. I sprayed some whipped cream onto the mugs, then brought them out to set on my table. "Enjoy." I managed to smile.

She didn't hear me, however, since she was occupied by something sitting on my desk.

_The book!_

I ran over, not wanting anything to happen to it. More importantly, I didn't want her to open it up. I didn't want her to think I was a freak. She reached out to touch it, then snapped her hand back like the book had grown teeth and was going to snap at her.

"Your book is shocking me. Literally and figuratively." She chuckled. "Is it like, wired or something?"

"Uh," My cheeks colored. "not that I'm aware of." I can't say I had completely forgotten the fact that I _stole_ that book from the library. Even if it didn't have a call number.

"Weird." Amber picked it up, flinching. "Wait..." Her eyebrows shot up comically. "You speak _Esperanto_? Damn, I knew you were smart, but not _that_ smart." She shook her head.

"Esperanto?" So that was the name of this language! I considered lying, telling her that I was fluent, but for some reason I couldn't bring myself to do it in front of Amber. "Uh, no, actually." I took a sip of my hot chocolate, which really wasn't that hot anymore.

"So you have this book because...?" She pressed. I felt like her eyes were burning into my soul.

I hesitated, turning my sip into more of a gulp. Even if I was to lie, what would I even say? I settled on saying something that was the truth, but not the whole truth. Hopefully it didn't draw her to ask more questions. "It looked interesting."

"Where'd you find it?" She turned it over, tracing the patterns carefully with her nail. I could see her flinch every couple seconds.

"Library." Obviously, I needed to try a new tactic.

"Doesn't have a call number." She smirked.

My mind went blank. What was I supposed to say to that? I stroked my hair, something I always do when I'm nervous.

"Tell you what," Amber leaned in, like we were business partners about to seal a deal. "I'll figure out what's in this book, a translation of sorts, and you tell me the _real_ deal with this book." She bit her lip.

I thought it over. Amber _must_ have some ulterior motive. I knew she did. Her snarky tone, dark makeup, and all-around destructive personality was like the one villains in chapter books usually possessed. Honestly, I was getting the better end of the deal. And what did she mean by 'the real deal'? I wasn't lying. Well, completely. I'd felt drawn to the book, so I took it. Nothing shady or weird. But she didn't have to know that, did she?"

"That works." I gave her a half smile.

"Great!" She looked at her watch, (which I could've sworn wasn't on her wrist before) and scrambled out of her seat. "Oh my God, look at the time! I better get going." She picked up the book and threw her coat on, going over to the door and unlocking it perfectly. "See ya, Jazz." She gave me a devilish grin before sauntering out the door.

It was only fitting, since I felt like I'd made a deal with the devil.

* * *

"Uh, Jazz? I've got some bad news." Lindsay didn't bother knocking as she walked into our dorm, disrupting me from reading.

"Okay?" I was a bit surprised at the change from her usually cheery tone, which now sounded like it had been weighed down. I made room for her on the couch, scooting over.

She took a deep breath. "Your uncle is dead." Looking down at the paper in her hand, she added, "Uncle Vlad." The blond moved closer to me, as if already anticipating waterworks.

"Wait, _what_?" Nevermind the fact that I absolutely cannot stand him, how'd I get the mail in the first place? Had my parents still been in contact with him somehow? My mind raced at these thoughts, until I realized Lindsay was still waiting for an appropriate reaction. "I mean, wow. That's really...horrible." I choked out the last word, having a bitter taste in my tongue for lying. I didn't dwell much on the fact that I probably wouldn't have lied to Amber, had she been in Lindsay's place.

"I'm sorry." She hugged me, squeezing my arms. "The funeral's this weekend. If you want, I could-"

"Yes." I responded.

The two of us cracked up.

"I'm gonna need some backup anyway." I did, but not in the 'shoulder-to-cry-on' sense. Because if I was invited, that meant some other old faces would be too.

* * *

_Sorry I haven't updated this in forever! I got caught up in other stuff. /: Anyway, I'm seriously digging the way this fic is turning out. Oh, and if y'all were wondering, I'm also working on the second chapter to **Wedding to Remember** so hopefully it'll get updated tomorrow. Any ideas on how Jazz will react to reconciling with her family? c:_


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